Snowflake Lady
by BE-Mistress
Summary: [MirSan] She only asked him if he wanted coffee.. (One-Shot)


_A/N: (Snorts) I've only seen so little of Inuyasha episodes and have too little information on the show to write a fic in their time and era. So I settled for an AU story with my favourite couple in the show. I hope you like it – my first Inyuasha fic!_

**Snowflake Lady **

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She was new.

And he was in love.

And he knew he was worrying her, staring at her with groggily eyes and a goofy grin dancing on his face. He knew she was about two minutes away from stepping away from the counter and running in fright to the other side of town. Because girls like her always did that – they always did that to him. And he would wonder, he would wonder for hours at a time (after being threatened on pain of death if he were to touch her again) why such women would turn him down.

It wasn't like he meant to scare them away. It was just his way of saying, 'Hey, I think you're cute.' And though he'd seen other men try and get girls in much subtler – more effective ways; he always preferred to be different, and more open in expressing how he felt.

Some women actually liked it, and would fling themselves on to him like Velcro. But they were always… never really his type.

He wasn't ugly. Damn right, he wasn't. In fact, he was certainly confident enough to admit that he was downright charming – if only he could keep his mouth shut and his hands to himself.

Of course he tried that before – for a second or two, and it usually worked if there wasn't a beautiful lady walking by. What could he say? He was enchanted, mesmerized by the opposite gender. He knew how they thought and he knew how they responded. He knew the types that would fall helplessly to his feet and the ones that would leave him hanging in humiliation. He also knew the ones that carried a bottle of pepper spray – and those he would tend to avoid.

He never really meant to hurt them or frighten them in anyway. He believed himself to be more of a good man – trying to spread happiness around by making every woman feel like she's gorgeous just the way she is. His goal was to see a smile, a joyful, carefree smile emit from the ladies he would meet and make them feel – even if it would just be for one second – that all their troubles never existed.

But this one, oh this one was peculiar.

She looked vicious – and he hadn't even begun hitting on her yet. She stared at him with her chocolate eyes as if fixing a curse on him that very moment. Yes, she was a strange one, a type he was unfamiliar with. But this made the challenge all the more exciting, for he was determined to bring about a smile on her beautiful lips.

"Can I help you?" she repeated, impatiently.

Oh, **_Can I help you_**: the four most beautiful words in language. And the way she said oh, he could just sit and listen to her say it all day.**_ Can I help you_**?**_ Can I help you_**?

Her voice rung in her ears like the sound of soft church bells in the night, even though a tiger's roar was quite more the obvious correspondence to her tone. Placing a hand underneath his chin, he gave her a dashing grin. "Would you bear my child?" he asked, the words rolling off his tongue with ease.

She was emotionless – something he didn't expect. Only two types of reactions came with that unique question: a disgusted look followed by the woman's departure or a shy expression and cute blushes lighting up the woman's rosy cheeks.

Instead, this one tapped her fingers against the counter and said, "May I suggest coffee?"

She had ignored his question completely and done it with exceptional coolness and simplicity. He found her actions intriguing. He stood up straight and pulled out his pocket change. "Yeah, sure," he replied.

She soon placed the hot cup in his hand and deposited his money in the register. "Thank you, have a nice day," she told him blandly before moving on to the next customer in line.

He walked over to a nearby table and took a seat. He didn't take his eyes off her. She had made him annoyed – for he didn't even manage to get a single emotion out of her. She had treated him as if he were no different than the other three hundred in line and that worried him; was he losing his touch?

So he got back up and approached her, conjuring up a sure fire way to get her to converse with him. The second he reached the cash register, she placed a bag of cookies in a waiting boy's hand and then disappeared behind the employees' door.

He wondered if she noticed him and so she tried to escape their encounter. If that were the case, that would mean he had an effect on her and so he hadn't lost his touch! But for some reason, having a plain effect on her didn't satisfy him enough, and so he strived once again to at least get to know her name.

He waited patiently, staring at the door, willing her figure to come stepping out in her calm yet alluring manner. And then he would reach out for her, and try a different tactic – perhaps complimenting her looks. Yes. Women liked that.

Finally, after what felt like years on end, she emerged from the quarters and took her place behind the register again.

Instantly, he dashed towards the line, cutting off the waiting customers behind him.

She gave him a surprised look, as if wondering what he was doing back. But before he got the chance to explain, an angry customer shoved him from behind and he stumbled sideways. His coffee spilled all over the floor.

"Get in line like the rest of us," the angry male customer shouted before placing his order.

The object of his affection plainly glanced at him, and he couldn't tell if she was concerned about him or not. But it was such a quick moment before she reverted back to her work habit and he heard her ask, "Can I help you?" to the man in line.

Shaking the liquid off his hand, he apologized to the staff before going into the bathroom to clean up.

As he observed his face in the mirror, he wondered if his face was handsome enough for her. He tried picturing her standing next to him to see if there was any chance they were compatible in looks. To his amazement, they were! For there was no other girl he could remember which matched with him so perfectly. He needed to get this one's attention. He needed to get to know her.

What was before a regular challenge in the world of romance, now became a mission to retain his self-worth. He marched back outside and stood in line. He was going to order another cup of coffee.

How he wanted to kick the old lady in front of him, and then punch the kid in front of her. They were all delaying his moment to be with _her _and he was getting more and more frustrated by the second. Never before had he been this determined to grab a woman's interest; never before had he been this worked up in an area he knew he was an expert in.

Moving inch by inch, it seemed impossible that he would ever reach her. Coffee, sandwiches, donuts; by now he had memorized the entire menu.

At last, he found himself one more person away, one more order away from sheer heaven with the girl of his dreams.

And then he heard a male voice. An awful, horrid, cruel and evil male voice from behind her shouting, "Sango! Your shift's done, Honey!"

How he wanted to strangle that man's skinny little neck and snap it into three billion pieces. He watched in fury as she left her station and retired through the employee's door, past the man who had reminded her of the end of her day's work – her manger; and from the sound of it, he was probably her boyfriend as well.

Now he was in total misery, dragging himself to a nearby table and collapsing in depression at his failure. He would have to wait until who knew how long before he could hear her delightfully tell him again, 'Can I help you?' And now he knew, oh he knew the awful truth – that she was already taken by a wonderfully lucky man.

He heard a door slam and was not even going to botherto look up when he heard the horrid voice of that skinny male manger again.

"Sango, Honey! I'll see you tomorrow okay Baby-Cakes?"

He lifted his head up in time to see her silhouette slide by him and head towards the door. He turned to the counter, where her manger stood with a dreamy look in his eyes, and wondered why 'Sango' hadn't responded to her obvious boyfriend.

No matter. This was his chance.

He got up from the table and rushed after her, eventually reaching the bus stop. His feet skidded to a stop in the layers of snow, and he stood undetected behind her.

She was rummaging through her purse, trying to find her bus pass perhaps.

He straightened himself and smoothed down his hair, mouthing the words he would say to her. But he was lost. For what was he going to say to her? No way could he risk the chance of never getting to hear her lovely voice again with another one of his forward lines. No, he would have to be subtle this time.

Ugh, ew. Subtle…

Suddenly, she dropped her purse,her belongings scattering all over the cold, fluffy snow ground. She cursed momentarily before bending down to gather her things.

He bent down as well... and finally found the perfect words to say to her, "Can I help you?"

She looked up at him in surprise, before giving a slight nod.

He gently took her things and dropped them into her shaking red, numb hands. Oh, he couldn't help it. Subtleness was just so dull and took way too long. He just had to say it despite her manager! "Would you _at least_ consider bearing my child?"

She gave him no indication of an answer – nor even if she heard him at all. She simply continued to pick up her belongings until the ground returned to its original white.

They both stood up.

"Thank you for your assistance," she whispered quietly and then turned away before he even got the chance to acknowledge her properly.

Sighing in defeat, he placed his hands into his pockets and turned away to stare at the busy street.

She was just too weird and too complicated to figure out. From now on he would only go for the women that were easy to understand, the ones that he could effortlessly know exactly what their reaction would be. Ones that wouldn't leave him dangling onto a sting of hope, kicking him in the ego until he was ready to let go.

It was snowing lightly by the time the bus arrived and he boarded it ahead of her to avoid the pain of having to watch her from behind.

The bus was crowded and so he stood, holding on to a pole and staring out at the window. His eyes were fixed on the local coffee shop – the place he would always remember as the place his heart was broken into little pieces... or more like his ego.

The bus roared to a start and chugged on its way through the downtown streets. All of a sudden, he felt two soft fingers faintly wrap themselves around his rough hand. He glanced down at the pole and traced with his eyes the fingers to find the face in which they belonged to. And there to his amazement was the girl they called Sango.

She blinked at him tentatively, seemingly equally surprised at her action. She opened her mouth slowly. "I-I…" She stopped momentarily. "He's not my boyfriend."

He grinned and glanced down, thankful that he hadn't lost his touch, especially when he had finally gotten close to a woman like her. Turning back to look at her beautiful face, he squeezed her hand gently and said, "Miroku."

"Sango," she replied back.

And all the while he couldn't stop the feeling of happiness bursting inside. For she was talking to him, interested in him, and most importantly,

…She was smiling.

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_Thanks for reading. **Please Review.**_


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